#authorized by law

[empresa-journal]

Can Consol Bonds and Stablecoins help America avoid the X-Date?

The X-Date, the day when the federal government runs out of money, is fast approaching. Strangely, consol bonds and stablecoins could help America survive the X-Date and a default. The X-Date is the day upon which the federal government cannot finance its operations. X-Date could be the beginning of an economic meltdown because the federal government will have no money. There will be no money…

[newttxt]

my january fanart for fanfic is from

personal treatment plan by @bmouse

i rly love when theres humor in the narrative, and i think this fic has great comedic timing AND the intimacy of law-typical body horror 🥰

[mabbbish]

wonderful day to remember ninjago has a canon highschool au

[chialattea]

whenever I feel sad I just sketch these guys to cheer me up,,, have a sketchdump,,,

[conchcronch]

Kinktober 2024: Day 3

WC: 2296

Summary: It's been so long since you've seen Law and you're struggling. So you give him a call hoping he can give you some much needed relief.

A/N: This is the first time I've ever written Law so I hope it's not too out of character.

You groaned as your head hit the pillow, your hair was a mess, the blankets tangled around your legs trapping you as you flailed in an attempt to free yourself. You had been at this for what felt like hours. Trying every position you could think of, moving to different places in the room, but no matter how close you got you couldn’t get there. Your hand was beginning the cramp, the pads of your fingers showing the very early signs of being pruny from your slick. 

You had no idea what it was that you weren’t doing, he could get you to cum in a matter of minutes, yet here you were completely unable to get yourself there. You looked over at the clock on the bedside table, 3:34am. You rolled over, pressing your face into his sweater that you had stolen last time you had seen him, as you groped around in your bedside drawer blindly until you felt the small transponder snail you kept there. Quickly dialing him, you waited in anticipation, knowing he would still be awake but hoping he would pick up.

“It’s late.” His voice was low, gravelly. The same voice he uses to whisper in your ear as he fucks into you, holding you tightly against you. 

“Not like you’re sleeping.” You rolled onto your side so your voice wasn’t muffled as your hand slipped down between his legs, your eyes fluttering closed so you could focus on his voice.

”But why aren’t you?” 

“I couldn’t sleep.” There is a slight whine in your voice as you tease your clit, rubbing your index and middle finger along either side of it. “When will I get to see you?” You heard him sigh.

“Hopefully soon.”

“But when” 

“Did you really call me this late just to ask that?” 

“Partially.” You heard him huff a breath through his nose, knowing there was a smirk across his lips. 

“Oh yeah, then what else did you need?” Even though you hadn’t been together for very long, he could read you like a book, even if he couldn’t see you. 

“I miss you.”

“Is that right?” You nodded despite the fact that he couldn’t see you. 

“I miss you so much.”

“So much you’re called at 3 in the morning just to tell me.” You heard the quiet sound of a book closing, smiling when you realized you had his full attention.

“Uh huh” Slowly you stimulated your clit, rubbing the pads of your middle finger around in such a way that it was hard to stop your hips from bucking. You couldn’t stifle the breathy moan that slipped out when you applied just a bit more pressure. 

“Sounds like you called for another reason.”

“Mmhm” 

“Why didn’t you just say that from the start?” If you listened closely, you would have heard the faintest sound of his belt being undone as he leaned his head against the back of his chair. 

“I’ve been trying all night, b-but I just can’t do it.” Your voice was breathy, and as you ran your free hand over your face to push your bangs out of your eyes you felt a light sheen of sweat beginning to form.

“All night, huh? Why didn’t you call sooner?” 

“It’s embarrassing.” You whined, forcing yourself to swallow a moan that was threatening to slip out.

“Arousal is completely natural, nothing to be embarrassed about.” His hand wrapped around his half hard cock, stroking slowly as he listened to all the little sounds you would make whenever you weren’t speaking. “What were you doing?” 

“I-I’ve been fingering myself for hours.” He let out a heavy breath through his nose, the thought of you laying in bed desperate for him was enough to get his cock fully hard at the mere mention.

“Mhm” He encouraged you to continue. 

“I just can’t get there.” You slipped you fingers down from you clit, gathering your slick before pushing your middle finger inside yourself. 

“What are you doing right now?” 

“I ah I have a finger inside b-but it doesn’t feel as good as yours.” In any other situation, you would rather eat Law’s hat than say any of this out loud, but you had grown so desperate that any part of you that was shy had been silenced.

“Take it out.” You did as he instructed, wiping it on your sheets before waiting for his next instruction. “What are you wearing?” 

“J-just a shirt and underwear.” 

“Which shirt?” As he closed his eyes he wanted to be able to picture you exactly how you were so he could imagine how you would look under him, begging for his fingers. 

“Y-your yellow button up.”

“What?” 

“I took it.” 

“I should have figured you had it.” He tried to keep his voice even, but truthfully the thought of you in his shirt was enough to force him to grip the base of his cock enough to hurt. “Take off your panties, unbutton the shirt, but leave it on.” 

You didn’t respond, immediately pushing the cotton panties off your hips and down your legs before working to unbutton his shirt. “Done.”

“Good. Now, what have you tried?”

“Everything.” You all but whined.

“I highly doubt that.” 

“I just can’t reach that spot inside, feels like my fingers aren’t long enough.” 

“We’re going to ignore that spot, okay?” 

“But it feels so good when you rub against it.”

“I know it does, but there’s better ways for you to get yourself there without me.” You wanted to argue it, but you knew he knew your body better than you did sometimes. “There’s no point in you wasting your entire night trying to get yourself off ineffectively.” God you loved it when he would slip into his more analytical self. “Put two fingers in your mouth.” He said this the same way he would tell someone a diagnosis that had you clenching your thighs together. 

You did exactly what you were told, tasting your own arousal on your fingers as you rubbing your thighs together, moaning slightly around your fingers as you swirl your tongue around the digits like you would his cock. “Take them out and play with your nipple for me.” The line of saliva connecting your fingers to your lip broke as you ran your wet fingers around your nipple. “Do it the same way I do it, take your time, there’s no rush.” 

“I miss your hands.” 

“I know you do, but you have to work with what you have.” His cock was so hard it hurt, the grip he still had around the base finally released as he ran his thumb over the bead of pre cum that had gathered at the tip, smearing it over his head. “How’s it feel?”

“G-good.”

“Now, with your other hand, slowly run it down your body. Take your time.” You couldn’t hold back to moan when you finally felt the tip of your finger make contact with your clit. Law was always very quiet when you had sex, the most you ever got out of him was a the occasional grunt when he was getting close, or a quiet fuck when you had his cock in your mouth, so when you heard a heavy sigh you felt yourself get even more wet, if that was even possible.

“L-Law are you-” You couldn’t bring yourself to say it, hoping he would be able to answer your unfinished question. 

“Y-yeah.” A quiet curse left your lips as you picture him, leaning back in his desk chair, fisting his cock as he told you how to touch yourself. “Put your clit between your index and middle finger.” You did as you were told, starting to move them back and forth before he could tell you to. “Don’t go too fast, take your time.” You couldn’t stop the moans from falling from your lips as you slowly sped up, your hips canting forward. “You’re going to wake your whole ship.” he said, laughing slightly to cover the moan that came from the very back of his throat. “Are you ready for more?” He finally asked, having to completely take his hand off his cock as he felt the knot in his stomach begin to fray but not wanting himself to finish before you. 

“Yes” you breathed, taking your fingers away from your clit and running them down along your folds. 

“Are you wet enough?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the question.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more wet in my life.” The sentence made your stomach flutter, admitting something so obscene to him felt wrong but at this point you didn’t care. 

“I wish I could feel it.” He couldn’t stop himself from imagining how well your cunt would take his fingers, watching them become covered in your slick as he pushed them fully inside of you, his tattoos completely engulfed. “Move the transponder closer, I want to hear it.” The hand that had be roughly holding your breast moved to grab the snail that had been sitting on your nightstand, placing it on the bed next to you, low enough that he would be able to hear the sound of your fingers pumping inside of you. “Now, push your middle finger inside.” You did as you were told, immediately curling it upwards as you did so. 

“I can do another.” 

“Then do it.” You pushed your ring finger in next, digging the heel of your palm against your clit as you did so. You bent your knees, bringing your feet up towards your body so you could rut against your hand. 

The sound of your fingers smacking against your wet folds was like music to Law’s ears. His cock was aching, pre cum straining his white shirt where it laid neglected for so long. But he knew the moment he wrapped his hand around himself, his orgasm would crash into him. “F-fuck Law” you called to him, reaching over to grab his sweater that had been laying besides you, bringing the fabric to your face to both cover you in his scent and in an attempt to muffle your needy cries. 

“Are you close?” He thumbed his messy head, bringing the pre cum down his shaft but refusing to stroke himself until he knew you were almost there. 

“Y-yeah finally-y” your words sounded broken and they made his cock throb, his balls feeling heavy enough that part of him thought he might cum untouched. And while the curious part of him was interested to find out if he actually would, the rest of him was begging for his hand. When he wrapped his fist around his cock he couldn’t stop the grunt that slipped from between his clenched teeth. The slapping of your cunt was loud enough he was almost concerned someone on the submarine might here, but he knew he was the only one up at this hour. “Can you t-talk to me, please?” The need in your voice spurred him on, his hand moving quicker as he leaned forward, curving over himself. 

“Are you gonna’ cum, babe?” He rarely ever used pet names, often preferring how your name feels in his mouth over any other name. But he remembered how much you liked being called ‘baby’, knowing it always evoked a long moan from you. 

“Y-yeah p-please I need to cum.” 

“Use your other h-hand to circle your needy little clit.” Despite your arousal-drink brain you were able to just barely follow his instructions. “That’s a good girl.” The sound of your fingers and your moans filled his office as though you were there. His hand was moving at a desperate pace, using his own precum as lube was not the best idea but he was too far gone to change. 

“Do it.” Was all he could get out from between his clenched teeth. The sound of your orgasm throwing him over the edge and into his own crashing climax. 

You knew you likely woke someone up with the volume of your moan. Each moan getting softer as your orgasm tapered off, your fingers slowing as they fucked you through your climax. Your breath was coming in short bursts, your hips lowering and your thighs shaking slightly. “Did you cum?” Your voice was rough, and a small whine left your raw throat as you finally pulled your fingers from your cunt. 

“Yeah, fuck.” You couldn’t help the small laugh at the sound of his gruff voice as he tried to catch his breath. “Do you feel better?” 

“Yeah, I think I can finally fall asleep.” Sleep was beginning to pull at your eyelids, having been evading you for hours. 

“Good, get some rest.” 

“Will you?” You pulled the blanket that had been pushed down to the bottom of your bed over you, rolling onto your side and holding his sweater against you as a makeshift pillow.

“I think so.” His voice was heavy with sleep.

“I’ll get to see you soon, right?” 

“We’re probably a few hundred knots behind you, Strawhat-ya asked us to meet you at the next port to discuss our next move.” 

“And when were you planning on telling me this?” You could hear the smirk on his face.

“Figured you knew.” 

“What part of this entire transponder call made it seem like I knew that, Law?” You tried your best to sound irritated but you knew it was clear you weren’t. 

“Get some sleep, cuz’ when we get to port you won’t be getting any.” 

“I’ll see you soon then.” 

“Goodnight.” You pressed your face into his hoodie as you drifted off to sleep, trying to think of all the ways you would get him back for not sharing such pertinent information with you.

[dark-night-hero]

Getting to know my-

My Top 3 manhwa men: (Kartien my no.1)

Kartien & Kayden from Eleceed, Phineas from My In-laws are obsessed with me.

My top 3 manhwa couples:

Pershati & Therdeo from My in laws are obsessed with me. Asha & Carlisle from Age of arrogance. Hestia & Caelus from For my derelict favorite.

Top 3 manhwa dads:

I HAVE A THING FOR SILVER HAIRED DADS? I THOUGHT I LIKE 2D GUYS WITH RED HAIR?!

Anyways, i forgot the name of the first guy but he is the father of the FL in There is no place for fake princess. Second is Abel Heilon/Helion from Author of my own destiny. Third is from a manhwa promo, novel completed, Theodore Dubbled from Baby raising devil.

[ash-and-starlight]

Every Day i think about the official radiant emperor Fuck Tier List

[hunterkhean]

Found another Silly incorrect Quotes I Feel like drawing

Here's some other incorrect Quotes

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Reflection: A Retelling of “Snow White and the Seven Dwarves”

The mirror is a gift from the dwarves. Its frame of hammered gold is wrought with delicately-crafted birds and beasts, fruit and flowers. Its silver-backed surface, unlike those created by human craftsman, shows a true reflection.

The queen loves to gaze at herself in the mirror. It tells her that she is beautiful—skin like milk, hair like midnight, eyes as blue as a crystalline lake. She is young, healthy, graceful, charming—perfection in human form. Truly a queen worthy of this kingdom.

Then, one day, the mirror’s message changes. It shows that the queen has lines around her eyes, sunspots on her nose, wicked glints of silver in her night-black hair. The queen does all she can to hide the damage, spends hours before the mirror with cosmetics and concealers. To the rest of the world, the queen is as perfect as ever.

Yet every morning, the mirror tells the truth.

Worst of all, her husband has a little daughter—barely fourteen years old—who grows lovelier by the day. Every morning, the mirror says that before long, those who worshiped the queen’s beauty will transfer their devotion to the princess—and will be right to do so.

The queen's beauty would not seem so tarnished if the princess were not there for comparison. The queen tries to send the princess to an isolated estate—tells her husband it is better for the girl to grow up away from the corrupting influences of the court. But the girl is too dear to her father. She wastes away with homesickness, until her father the king orders her to come home for the sake of her health.

The queen tries neglecting the girl in ways the king won't notice—refusing to let her wash with good soap, denying her a maid, forbidding her fashionable clothes and hairstyles. Through it all, the mirror tells her that the girl’s beauty shines out brighter than ever.

Before long, the queen spends hours by the mirror each day, locked in a futile endeavor to restore what is lost forever. One moonlit night, she finds a dagger, and considers plunging it into her heart just to end this ceaseless torment, but the morning shows her a better path.

She will never be perfect, nor make the princess less so—but she can destroy perfection.

It would be easy to take this dagger to where the princess sleeps and shove it through her perfect heart, but the queen doesn't dare to mar her own beauty with blood-stained hands.

She gives the dagger to a loyal huntsman. He takes the girl into the forest—and returns holding a small, bloody heart.

That night before the mirror, the queen's smile makes her glow with a new kind of beauty.

*

People often tell the princess she is beautiful. She believes them, for she has never seen an ugly face. Old Sal’s missing tooth is an open door into her smile. The chambermaid’s freckles make a daytime constellation. The little stable boy’s one good eye glitters green as an emerald. Her stepmother owns a beautiful mirror, but the princess barely gazes at it. Why would she waste time examining her own familiar face in a world with so many other lovely faces to gaze upon?

One day in early spring, she asks to go berrying in the forest beyond the castle, as she once did with her mother. To her surprise, the queen permits it—the queen rarely allows the princess anything that might be a luxury. She even sends one of her huntsmen as protection.

In the eaves of the forest, the princess finds strawberries not far from the path, and she hastens to gather as many as she can. She invites the huntsman to join her, but he stands statue-like at the edge of the clearing, always on guard. Not wanting him to go without, the princess brings the berries to him, and offers him the largest, sweetest one.

As she does, she gazes at his face. Scars make mountain ranges along his cheeks and brow. His hair is edged with silver. The lines of his face are solid as stone. His deep gray eyes hold storm clouds.

“Oh, my,” the princess says in awe. “You are beautiful.”

The huntsman’s face disappears as he hides it in one of his hands. “I can’t,” he says, his voice rough with unshed tears. “I must betray my queen."

His other hands darts to the side, quick as a serpent, and the silver flash of a blade disappears into the undergrowth.

The huntsmen places both of his hands on the princess’ shoulders and crouches to look into her face. “You must run. The queen wants you dead. If you stay at the palace, she will find a way to kill you. You must flee into the forest and never return.”

“The forest?” the princess asks in terror. She has often wandered in the eaves, but she has never dared the strange terrors that are said to lurk in its interior.

“There is nothing there that can harm such innocence,” the huntsman says. “You will find shelter.” He turns her around and pushes her toward the depths of the forest. “Now run! As fast and as far as you can!”

The shadows of the forest embrace her, and the flowers make a path at her feet. She crosses shallow rivers, climbs rocky slopes, winds through twisted groves of trees. She couldn’t return home even if she wanted to.

She had not been blind. She had seen something like ugliness in the queen’s face whenever they were alone. But hatred? Murder?

She nearly collapses with grief, but through the trees, she sees a wisp of smoke. A chimney. A roof over a tumbledown cottage. The princess runs through the open door, collapses on the floor, and is glad to find a safe place to weep.

Her father will think her dead, and she will not be there to comfort him. She will never again see any of the beautiful faces that fill the palace. The hundreds of hidden details that made the castle home are forever out of her reach. The huntsman saved her, but to what end? A lifetime of loneliness and misery? Is this truly a better fate than the quick death of a dagger through the heart?

She opens her eyes. She has looked too long at the sorrows in her heart. She must find solace from without.

She gazes upon the cottage.

And sees seven beautiful faces.

*

The dwarves love their princess. She is beautiful, not only because of her face, but because of the way her soul shines out through it. She is endlessly beautiful because she sees the beauty in everyone and everything.

There never was a girl so selfless. Her every waking moment is spent filling their days with a million small comforts. The cottage has never been so clean. The food has never been so lovingly prepared. There is nothing she would not do for them, and in return, they devote their lives to her service.

She needs their protection. One so naturally kind and innocent can’t recognize when strangers might have ill intent. One day, after being out in the woods, the seven dwarves return to the cottage to find the princess nearly strangled by a set of stays. When they revive her, she tells them of a ragged old woman (with such beautiful hands!) who asked for food and water and then repaid her generosity by giving a nearly-fatal gift. The eldest of the dwarves caught a glimpse of the stranger’s retreat, and saw enough of her form to suspect the queen.

The dwarves keep a closer guard on the princess, but six months later, a few minutes go by when all seven of them are away from home. They return to find the princess nearly killed by a poisoned comb in her hair. The story she tells is similar to the last one—an old woman in need of help repaid their kind princess with a gift meant to kill.

After that, the princess is never alone. The dwarf on guard duty always has the envied task, so lovely is it to be in her presence. A year, then two, go by with no signs of danger.

Then one winter morning, after a night of birthday feasting, all seven of the dwarves sleep late. The princess rises at her usual time, hoping to fix them a holiday breakfast. By the time the dwarves stumble out of bed, they find the princess sprawled across the kitchen floor—cold, pale and lifeless, with a poisoned apple in her hand.

They despise themselves for having failed her, but their love for the princess drives them to serve her the only way they can—by laying her body to rest. The cold, hard earth won’t take her, and they can’t bear to hide her away in the realm of death. Knowing that decay will not touch one so innocent, they place her in a coffin of glass and lay her in their garden, where her beauty can brighten the world in death as it did in life.

They keep a constant vigil, lost in loving grief. They ought to have known she would end this way. This is the fate of all innocence in this dark and sinful world—to be destroyed by wickedness. Even as they see this truth, they know that it is wrong. The world should not be this way, but what can they do? They wish and pray for better, but they can’t hope. How can innocence ever overcome such evil?

In the spring, when the last snow melts and the first snowbells bloom, the dwarves see movement in the woods beyond their cottage. A prince approaches on a snow-white horse. He is ruler of this forest and its mysterious ways—a king of kings, even more beautiful than their princess. His face shines with a wisdom that does nothing to defile the innocence of his heart.

He leaps from his horse, approaches the coffin, raises the lid, and takes the cold hand of the princess between his.

“Beloved,” he says, “arise.”

In his words and actions, the dwarves find the answer to the riddle they have pondered in their long vigil of grief. In a world of wickedness, the salvation of Innocence is Love.

The princess opens her eyes. Takes a breath. Sits up and gazes upon the world she loves, upon the one who loved her back to life. Something of the prince’s wisdom is reflected in her, so that her beauty is almost painful to behold.

The dwarves rejoice, and the princess rejoices with them. She kisses each one atop the head, but does not release the hand of her prince.

Eager to serve one who served them so well, the dwarves cook her breakfast, and she eats with even more enthusiasm than she showed in her former life. Yet when the meal ends, she stands with her prince at the threshold of the cottage.

“I must return to my father,” the princess says.

The dwarves protest. What of the queen? What of the danger?

The princess looks at her prince with eyes full of love. “I have nothing to fear.”

*

The king rejoices at his daughter’s return—he has thought her dead for so many years. Grief has aged and weakened him, but there is beauty in his face that grows brighter with every minute he spends in the presence of the princess.

The princess tells him of her troubles since she went away, and the king is horrified by her words. “I knew my wife had lost her reason,” he says, “but not her heart! She must pay for her crimes!”

He moves toward the door as though he will administer justice this moment.

The prince stops him with a gentle hand upon his chest. “There is no need.”

*

The queen gazes at herself in the mirror. She never looks anywhere else. If there is a world beyond the edges of its frame, she has forgotten it. She sees only her own face, searches for the remaining scraps of beauty, tries desperately to erase the blemishes that grow ever more hateful with the passing of years.

Another face appears in the reflection—a face the queen thought she had destroyed long ago. It is lovelier than ever. The queen hides her face in her hands so she can not see the painful beauty of the princess.

“Come away from there,” the princess says. “Gaze with me upon the other beauties of the world.”

“And lose myself?” the queen shrieks. “That is what you have always wanted—to destroy my very self! To take all the honor and beauty that should be mine!”

“I wish to save you,” the princess says. “Come away.”

“Never!” the queen screams, clutching the mirror in two white-knuckled hands. “I have everything I need right here! You can’t take it from me!”

The princess touches the queen’s shoulder. The queen screams and shrinks away, hiding her face once more in her hands.

A man’s voice—painful in its beauty—says, “Beloved, she has made her choice.”

At long last, they leave. The queen looks in the mirror and sees no face but her own. No greater beauty remains nearby to shame her.

In the confines of her world’s silver surface, she is fairest of all.

*

The queen is locked away in the prison of her choosing.

The king stays to do what good he can for his kingdom, and the princess promises to return for him after he has fulfilled his purpose.

The prince places the princess on his snow-white horse, and they travel once more past the cottage of the dwarves, who are glad to see her so beautiful and beloved.

At last, the prince brings the princess to his kingdom at the heart of the forest.

The beauty she finds there is beyond words.

[alwaysbewoke]

[1000sunnygo]

One Piece Academy chapter 47: Lost Dog part 1 (Quick translation)

source | index

(Law and Cora don't appear in this week's part, we'll see them next week!)

"A Grand festival for Onigiri lovers, the Onigiri Expo!"

<What appears before Luffy's brother Ace kun is... Onigiri? >

Onigiri: Waff!

Ace: The heck are you?

[Title Card: New World High "Moby Dick School" 2nd year, Fire fist Ace kun]

Ace: A baby bear?

Onigiri: Waff!

Ace: If it waffs then dog, I guess...You a pup?

Onigiri: *huff* *huff*

Ace: Here, take the skin of my steamed bun. See ya.

(walks away)

Sorry, doggo. I can keep a beetle at best as a pet.

Onigiri: (look at him rofl)

Ace:.....

Hoop!

*puts Onigiri down*

*starts running*

HOW 'BOUT THAT??

Onigiri: Waff! Waff!

Onigiri: *plops*

Ace: !

(Don't look back...!!) *dragging himself*

(rip dog)

Ace: DARN IT!!

Ace: Fine, fiine... my loss.

Well, it's definitely a lost dog so that takes some weight off... let's search for your master, shall we?

Onigiri: *marveled at butterflies*

Ace: Try actin' like a lost dog, will you...

Well, let's go! Er...... Norimochi!

Onigiri:.....

Ace:.... Guess that's not the name.

(T/N: Norimochi is mochi wrapped seaweed so Ace was pretty close! Reminder that Onigiri is named by Luffy, so the bothers have a similar naming tendency lol)

<DOOON! >

[Title card: Faculty, New World Middle School

White Chase Smoker sensei]

Smoker: How long does a freaking cup of coffee take? Tashigi!!!

Tashigi: I'm sorry! There are so many types of beans;;

Someone: *light coughs*

Ace: Sorry for the inconvenience, but... do you perhaps recognize this dog?

Smoker:

Ace: 'guess not? Sorry for the trouble! 👋🏼

Smoker: You!!

Smoker: HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!

Tashigi: *brings coffee* Decided to go with the regular after all!...Huh?

Ace:!!

Oop!!

Ace: The dude from earlier.. ain't that too flashy for a greeting?

Smoker: You sure look carefree... Whitebeard corps second commander, Portgas D. Ace.

Ace: Mm? You're that guy from Luffy's class! If I remember right, smokey-

Smoker: It's Smoker!

Ace: Right, Smoker sensei, tutoring my li'l brother.

Smoker: Cut the crap. You stayed at our school for two months, made a name while I was away on a business trip, then quickly transferred to Moby Dick School branch.

Only if you hadn't moved there... I would've thrown you and your brother into the reform room and straightened you out!

Ace: Well, now I'm practically in a different school, so let all that slide, maybe?

Smoker: No can do. As long as I'm a teacher, and you're a thug!

Ace: What a boring reason.

Aight, let's have fun!

Smoker: But before that, why's that dog with you?

Continues in Reblog ⬇️

[thelonelyshore-if]

I have read way more about law than I've ever truly wanted to while doing research for a part of next chapter. Law student MCs my beloved & beloathed.

[newttxt]

this is when i come clean and admit i sketched some stuff based on my own fic :///

(the full version is on my bsky, but its not actually explicit. tmblr just has Odd Rules)

[dyinggirldied]

Undereage Superheroes On The Rise: A Morally and Ethically Cause of Concern?

It's supposed to be another clickbait news but it comes at the time when the existence of ghost was recently proved factual at a small town in Illinois along witha its dead teenage superhero, when the heroes of Paris and by large France accidentally revealed they weren't adults at all, not even close, when Spiderman was unmasked to be 16-year-old Peter Parker, when the Young Justice was wounded in a large scale attack.

Most of the people involved and not involved are not having fun.

(This is inspired by the Miraculous fanfic The Growing Pains of Child Soldiers by BloodWolf13, a fic which I recommend you read since it is very, very good. Hits all my whump and angst points)

[madamdionysia]

Plasma (Law x GN!Reader)

Summary: Law never brings up his tattoos and their story. Then you ask him one day.

Word Count: 1,056

Read on Ao3

Dividers By: @cafekitsune (thank you for all of your work!)

Notes: My thoughts about Law's tattoos and how Corazon caught fire spiraled into this. I also don't go in depth with the Donquixote Family side of matters, including the exact details of Cora's spying and muteness. It's mostly just a conversation between Law and the reader about his tattoos that could be read platonically or romantically. My medical knowledge isn't up to par with Law's, but I did my best.

Takes place sometime post-Zou.

Unedited (mostly) but I'm still happy with how it turned out.

Fun facts:

Ancient tattoo pigments were made from soot, charcoal, and such.

Plasma is a component of blood, but it is also used to describe a state of matter. Whether or not fire is a plasma depends mostly on its temperature.

It feels like an eon has passed since the question left your lips, tumbling to the ground between the two of you like dried timber ready to catch flame. Law’s lips parted, his eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but he tugged his hat over his face and schooled his expression with such rapidity you would have thought you offended him. But you know him better. Offering him your silence while he gathered himself wasn’t uncommon in this relationship, and Law was grateful for it right now as his inked hands ran through his hair.

He sighed, a sound of his relentment, and let his power take you to his quarters. For his own privacy. He wasn’t one to show vulnerability. Between his duties as captain and doctor, as well as his troubled past, you knew he had to be quick to think and act. Emotions would only hinder that swiftness required for survival.

Law starts with his hands, the word DEATH across both knuckles. The irony of his profession is not lost on you until he detailed Doflamingo’s plot for Law to give his own life for the bastard’s eternal one. If Doflamingo wanted life, the healing touch of a doctor, Law would be certain that he would never get it. When you point out that most tattoos across the first phalanges face away from the owner of them, Law corrected you.

“Proximal phalanges.”

“Whatever.”

You punctuated your statement with an eye roll and continued listening to him. He obtained his Devil Fruit powers before his tattoos, this you knew, but since ascertaining much of his abilities he decided on the placement of the tattoos. Not only for that pink feathered demon, but also for his enemies in general. A warning for what was to become of them.

The back of his hand related to his medical knowledge, as did the central part of the forearm design. And the surrounding prongs of his Jolly Roger. All symbolizing the extruding envelope proteins of a virus. The remaining circular designs on his forearms were both reminiscent of another virus design but also incorporated the Room ability of his powers. The spiked spheres surrounding the viral symbols representing another aspect of his doctoral talents, much like the rest of his ink explained thus far.

“It’s also a lymphocyte eradicating a virus.”

“A what?”

“A white blood cell.”

“Oh. Well, at least your Jolly Roger tat is self-explanatory.”

“Yes and no, I’ll get to that.”

He took a deep breath, steading himself once more. Then he removes his shirt, folding it neatly beside him on the bed. He scratched at the back of his head, his ink stretching and flexing with the skin it's permanently embedded in. Law lets his arms fall back to his sides.

“I never tell those about the man that saved me…”

But here he was, detailing his early years to you regardless. You listen quietly, giving him the space to dredge the words up through memories long buried. The fire set to his hometown. The loss of his loved ones. The manipulation of Doflamingo and the subsequent escape with his brother.

“Corazon means heart. His brother awarded him the Heart Seat when he returned, feigning muteness…”

So this was how his upper arms earned their hearts, you thought, for the one who saved him.

“Muteness?”

“Part of his cover, let me get there.“

And apparently Corazon held a clumsy streak, nearly setting himself on fire multiple times. Law went off the subject for a moment to list the various pranks the other Donquixote family members would play on the poor guy. But as it turned out, Law found out that Doffy’s younger brother was a commander in the Marines. No one called him by his real name, except his eldest brother as Rosinante lay on his deathbed of snow.

“When I first joined the family, Corazon would try his hardest to get me to leave. He didn’t like seeing children under his brother’s influence.”

A pang echoed in your chest, like a can crumpling. No one should have been under that influence, but you kept this to yourself. You had decided you had interrupted Law enough during his explanation and that you didn’t want him to recede back internally with the memories. It was best that he lay them out, like his surgical tools cleansed and neatly arranged to be used for his benefit. Perhaps it was a good thing, you thought, for him to get all of this off of his chest. Though the ink would stay.

“The last time I saw him was with this huge grin…”

He gestured to the Jolly Roger embroidered on your clothes. A toothy, rebellious smile. Much like the tattoos on his hands, that defiant DEATH in the face of Doflamingo. You let out a low chuckle, letting your thoughts process it all.

“And this heart…”

He placed a hand over his chest now, palm covering that miniature grin as if to hold Corazon. Above his fingers spread the tendrils of flame, curved and clinging to his clavicles in such a way that they shifted and flickered like a real blaze.

“…Well, he was named for a heart and he caught on fire a lot…”

Law’s sweet, you realized, and had a wicked sense of humor. He elaborated that it initially symbolized that burning revenge he felt, a scorching desire to overcome the Heavenly Demon and take victory over him in memory of Corazon. Thoughts swirled in your head, ashes swept up by smoke. The conversation smoldered and glowed now like the remnants of the campfire on Zou, still warm and comforting against the chill of night.

“How come you never tell anyone else about your tattoos?”

“Too much explanation.”

“Then how come you told me?”

Law smirked and replied, “I don’t think I need to worry about you.”

Cryptic as always, you lamented, but he’s right. You weren’t one for divulging other’s secrets. Even as the conversation died out and Law shrugged his shirt back on, you couldn’t help but wonder if there’s anyone else that Law would let under his skin. If one day, the bridge between the two of you gave way to an inferno. That he would then collect the soot and charcoal left over, as deep as the pigment that’s marked on his body.

[conchcronch]

Kinktober 2024: Day 12

WC: 2494

Summary: You've caught Law in a good mood, he might be willing to try something you've been begging him for, but only if you're good.

His lips moved against yours in such a leisurely way, he was in no rush, he had nowhere to be. He was so entirely in the moment, the two of you under the blankets of your shared bed, your legs on either side of his hips as you sat on his lap. Maybe it was the plush pillows behind his back, the fact the room was the perfect temperature or the fact he had for once had a full night of rest, but he was getting lost in you. The way your hands held his face, not so much guiding him but making sure he wasn’t going to pull away. The lights were still off, the crew only just beginning to stir throughout the Polar Tang, but for the first time in a long time he didn’t really care. He was entirely captivated by you. 

His hands slipped under your oversized shirt, running along your sides up higher until he was able to feel your breast. His thumbs brushed over them in unison, not missing the way you sucked in a breath, your buds hardening against the pads of his thumbs. Unconsciously you rutted against him, his erection extremely apparent through his thin boxer briefs he had slept in. He could stay like this all day, running his tattooed hands along your most sensitive parts, tongues intertwined so he could swallow all the little sounds you make, the feeling of you humping against him. He pulled your shirt over your head, your lips forced apart for half a second before you guided his face back to yours. You breathed his name, sighing as he toying with your nipples, nipping at your lower lip as his arousal began demanding something more than this. 

He pulled his head back, watching as you chased his lips with yours before ultimately giving up and opening your eyes. His eyes were cast down, watching as he pinched your nipples, earning a yip you weren’t able to fully swallow which made him smirk. You wanted to poke fun at him, to comment on the fact you had never seen him up before nine if he had gone to be the night before. But you thought better of it, becoming distracted by the way his tattoos arms moved as he fondled you. “Law” You sighed, your hand running along his bicep, down his forearm until you could grab one of his hands. He allowed you to move it, his eyes trained on where exactly you were intending on taking his hand, his eyebrows quirking when you pulled it up towards your head rather than forcing it down between your legs. You pressed his hand to your neck, moving your fingers to press down on his, hoping he was understanding what you were requesting of him. “Please Law” 

You knew he was always very cautious when it came to his particular kink, never wanting to push it as far as you so desperately craved. You didn’t want to pass out, but you always wanted him to restrict your breathing enough that your vision blurred, the idea of his tattooed hand around your neck making your folds wetter than they already were. 

His fingers tightened around your neck, assuring you he got the message. “You’ll tell me, if it’s too much for you, yeah?” His voice was rough, having not spoken yet. 

“‘Course” You nodded, whimpering weakly when you felt his fingers press into your neck. 

“You like this huh?” Tightening his grip more, watching how your mouth opens, your breathing not yet impacted. You nodded, your eyes wide and grinding your cunt against his cock. ”Since you asked so nicely and you caught me in a good mood.” He pulled you forward, his lips on yours again but the kiss was much more rough. His teeth catching your lower lips, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth as he growled into you. ”What’re you want me to do to you?” He forced you back, using his grip on you to his advantage, moving you around as he so chose. He watched your face, his grip tightening as he studied your every expression, using his Haki to get a sense for your limits. 

You managed to squeak out a whimper, tearing beginning to well along your waterline as his fingers squeezed around your windpipe, your face beginning to turn red as your vision barely started to blur. His hand released the pressure, still resting on your neck but allowing a gasp of air to fill your lungs. You could tell he was studying you, watching as your pulled breath after breath into your lungs, your eyes hungry. “Do that again.” A slow smile spread across his lips, his haki only confirming this wasn’t too much for you. 

“How ‘bout I make you choke on something else?” He smirked, leaning back against the pillows, his hand leaving your neck so you could shift positions. You were quick to pull yourself from his lap, watching as he spread his long pasty legs so you could nestle between them. As you got comfortable he used his devil fruit to rid the both of you of your clothes, which truthfully you were surprised had lasted so long. Within the blink of an eye you were face to face with his twitching cock, a well groomed bed of dark hair framing him perfectly. 

Your eyes flicked up to him, waiting to go ahead. Which you didn’t get, instead feeling his hand on the back of your head, guiding you down. You reached forward, pulling his cock to your lips as they wrapped around his head, his fingers gripping your hair tightly. 

“No hands” you wanted to pull off, to question him. But he forced your head further down “behind your back.” The position was slightly difficult to hold, you never had strong stomach muscles so maintaining this position without your hands for support was something you were not used to. But when he saw you put both hands behind your back, holding one wrist in the other hand he growled a low good girl which made it all worth it. 

The steady pressure on the back of your head pushed you down, forcing you to swallow inch after inch until his cock followed the natural curve of your throat, your nose pressed into his hairs. You tried to swallow around him, drool already slipping past your open mouth to coat his base and dripping over his balls. It was when he felt you gag that he thrusted his cock into your mouth, as though it could go further. 

The hair along the back of your neck stood on edge, your body buzzed as you felt something. Something you had only felt a handful of times, if that. Like you were being watched, more than that, you were being stared at, your emotions felt, your eyes used by someone else. Observation Haki. The realization flooded your mind, the feeling exactly the same as the first time you had been on the receiving end of this ability. 

The hand on the back of your head pulled up harshly, dragging you away from his cock, pulling it like a cork from your throat. Saliva dripped down your lips as you breathed heavy, your eyes flicking up to meet his gaze, a knowing smirk on his lips. You should have known he would pull something like this. “Again” he repeated the motion, forcing his cock down your throat until you were gagging around him, saliva filling your mouth like a basin filled with water. He bucked into your mouth, his hips coming off the bed as your nails bit into your hand. This time he pushed you further, that same feeling sparking through your whole body as he watched through your eyes, waiting until your vision began to blur to pull you off. 

He yanked you off him again, letting go of your hair and allowing you to sit up fully, wiping the saliva from your chin with the back of your arm, his eyes racking over your naked body. A hand came up to your cheeks, thumb wiping the tear that had fallen when he fucked his cock deeper into your throat. “Stand up.” 

Your legs protested as you stood up from the bed, your feet bristling with that ‘pins and needles’ feeling as you awaited your next instructions. He scooted to the edge of the bed, standing and drawing you into another kiss. His tongue ran along your own, his hands running up and down your back, grabbing at your ass, giving it a smack as he smiled against your lips. One hand remained on your ass, kneading the fat while the other slipped between your legs, running between your folds to feel just how wet you were. “You’re soaked.” His lips moved against yours as he spoke, you were only capable of a pitiful whine in response. “What is it that you want?” He pulled back, pressing his forehead to yours so he could watch you struggle to put words together, his fingers still idly running between your labia. 

“Want you” 

“What do you want exactly?” 

“You to fuck me.” He smiled as he watched you struggle, your mind clouded by arousal and distracted by how his fingers moved so easily against you. 

“Is that right?” You nodded, your eyes slipped shut as you focused on his fingers. “With my fingers around your neck?” You nodded again, sighing out a please. With his fingers still sliding along your folds he guided you with his other hand, moving you until you were staring at yourself in his full length mirror, one inked hand around your neck and the other reaching around and rubbing at your clit in lazy circles. “Look at yourself” His breath was hot against your ear, his lips moving along your skin as he spoke. 

You were a mess, tears streaked down your ruddy cheeks, your hair still mused from sleep and his hand around your neck. His eyes were on you, watching as you stared at yourself, his fingers working slowly as he pressed his thumb and index finger against the sides of your throat, watching you try to draw in full breaths. “Do you want me to fuck you?” He watched you nod, tears welling in your eyes as your vision began to blur around the edges until his grasp was completely gone. 

As you pulled deep breaths in, filling your lungs you barely had the time to wonder where his touch had gone before you felt the head of his cock, slick with pre cum press against your entrance. A long low mewl slipped from your lips as he pushed further into you, his hand returning to your hip to keep you steady while the other held his cock as though he might slip out. 

Once he was fully in his hand was back on your neck, pulling your back against him as the head of his cock pressed against your walls, stretching you around him as he thrusted. “Tell me how tight you want it, yeah?” He pressed against your neck, his thumb rubbing back and forth against the column of your throat. 

“Harder” His hand tightened, not tight enough to restrict your breathing in any way, but tight enough that you could feel your pulse thump against his finger. His hips thrusted into you, setting a fairly steady pace, his eyes watching your tits bounce every time his hips meet your ass. “H-harder” He could feel your breath against his grip, your pulse quickening as he felt every forced inhale. “Harder” you forced out, the squeak in your voice the first sign that your breathing was beginning to become restricted. That’s when you felt the hum of his haki throughout your entire body, feeling his cock twitch inside of you as he watched himself fuck you in teh mirror, through your eyes. He knew you could take more, your vision not yet beginning to fuzz, but your breathing was clearly hard to catch, the feeling of pleasure beginning to overwhelm. His hips sped up, the head of his cock bullying your cervix with every thrust. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, your lips moving in silent pleas for him to hold you tighter but he couldn’t bring himself to do it, too lost in the pleasure. 

“Want’chu to cum for me” His teeth were clenched, his lips pressing hot kisses to your neck as the hand that had been on your hip moved to your clit, pressing against the bundle and watching in amusement as you tried to buck your hips. “You can do that for me, can’t you?” You nodded, trying to focus on the pressure around your neck, the feeling of his fingers and the way his cock was pounding into you. You were barely able to open your eyes, unsure of when you had closed them, your gaze meeting his in the reflection of the mirror. Your tits bounced with every thrust, his inked fingers manipulating your body in the perfect way. But it was his gaze, his predatory, hungry eyes that were what sent you over the edge. 

You were thankful for the hand around your neck, otherwise you would have crumpled on the floor when your orgasm finally peaked, his thrusts somehow pressed deeper into you, once, twice then a final third time before he pulled out and came on your lower back with a broken groan. 

The next thing you felt was the soft material of a towel, cleaning up his quickly drying cum from your tailbone. At some point you had been lowered to the floor, your legs having given out underneath you as your orgasm quaked through you. He tossed the towel into his laundry hamper, crouching behind you and leading you head backwards to rest on his shoulder. His hands gently ran over your neck, his index finger on one side while his thumb was on the opposite side of your column. He carefully inspected you, the feeling of his warm fingers on your body making your body hum in over stimulation but the feeling of his warm breath on your face as he worked was enough to send the heaviness of sleep through your body. “Does it hurt at all?” His voice was soft but diagnostic, a combo you had become quite used to. You shook your head gently.

“No” your voice was a bit rough but he didn’t seem overly concerned. Next thing you knew you were back in bed, the blankets over you and your head on his pile of pillows. He stood next to you, his hand upturned, a clear sign he had used his abilities. 

He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead, a rare intimate moment before he began dressing. “Get some sleep, I’ll bring you some honey tea when you’re awake to help with your throat.”